


Unladylike

by MidgardianHero



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidgardianHero/pseuds/MidgardianHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Loki has lived up to his mischievous reputation and caused enough trouble to get himself banned from attending the royal Valentine’s Day celebration. When the reader is asked by one of his professors to deliver his textbooks, she learns exactly what he did to get himself locked up in the palace library.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unladylike

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be a Disney Prince Loki AU in which the princes are in their early to mid-twenties and Asgardians observe Valentine’s Day. Try not to read too much into it or look for canon-compliance where there is none. This was written largely for my amusement. Enjoy! ♥
> 
> I own nothing; all rights go to the respective owners and creators.

___________________________________________ ♡

The vast marble corridors were quieter than usual, practically empty safe for the stone-faced guards presiding over their posts. Everyone was preparing for the Valentine’s Day celebration, and as the afternoon sun gave way to evening, the feast would begin several floors below.

Even though you’d walked these halls a thousand times before, you couldn’t help feeling rather exposed and conspicuous with only the echo of your own boots ringing in your ears. You clutched a heavy stack of textbooks to your chest and kept your eyes on the massive golden doors up ahead as you strode onward, trying to steady your heart with slow, practiced breaths.

 _This is so silly,_ you reprimanded yourself as you came within a few meters of the looming doors.  _Pull yourself together! He’s just a young man, for goodness’ sake. You’ve taken on far more ominous creatures in your training, certainly! Besides, he’ll likely ask you to leave as soon as you arrive…_

One of the two guards manning the doors held out an armored hand, signaling you to halt. You obediently complied. “The young prince is not permitted any visitors at this time,” he announced in a gruff voice, sounding downright adamant in his authority.

"I’ve been summoned here on academic business, by order of Lord Irah," you countered, politely enough, as you held out a leaf of royal parchment to validate your claims.

The guards each glanced it over, nodding curtly once they recognized Queen Frigga’s official seal. With orders directly from the palace, they weren’t in a position to argue. The head guard clacked the base of his staff against the stone floor and stepped aside as the double doors parted, granting you entry to the library beyond.

___________________________________________ ♡

The library was a daunting thing, large enough to be a palace all on its own. How anyone ever found precisely what they were looking for, you hadn’t a clue. The shelves seemed to tower miles above your head, curving toward a beautiful domed ceiling depicting ancient Asgardian philosophers and war heroes.

With your head tilted skyward, you nearly let out a shout when the golden doors slammed shut behind you. The silence that creeped in around you was chilling.

Much like the halls, the library appeared to be vacant. There wasn’t an attendant in sight, and with little to do other than clear your throat and hope someone noticed your presence, you decided to take a stroll through the labyrinth of shelves. There was bound to be  _someone_ there who could point you in the right direction.

But what if there wasn’t anyone else? What if you’d been cast into the lion’s den and were expected to fend for yourself?

 _That’s hardly fair,_ you thought instantly, feeling slightly childish for taking the rumors to heart. Prince Loki didn’t deserve to be thought of as an enemy… although he had garnered quite the unseemly reputation over the years.

If you thought hard on it, you could remember a time when the two of you had been close enough to warrant you having an opinion of him. Being the only daughter of a well-respected family within King Odin’s circle, you and the children of equally privileged kin shared an early education with the princes of Asgard.

There were group activities, you remembered with a faint smile.

Mornings were set aside for writing and arithmetic, while afternoons were spent sparring and practicing spellwork in the safety of the castle’s courtyard with a fair-haired boy named Fandral, an athletic young girl who would come to be known as Lady Sif, and the princes themselves, along with five other children of regal blood whose names and faces you couldn’t quite recall.

Prince Loki had been pleasant enough back then. Friendly and playful, if not a bit more reserved than his boisterous older brother. But as time passed and you all reached your more formative years, the princes were withdrawn from group lessons to be given one-on-one instruction by private tutors.

When you considered how lovely it was to reminisce, you couldn’t understand the things people were saying about him now. They called him a trickster; a menace. Though the origin of these whispers was a mystery, it became a commonly accepted superstition that you didn’t want to cross Prince Loki in the halls when he was in a foul mood, lest he jinx you with infertility or sic phantoms on your dreams.

Bearing all of this in mind, you felt an unexpected sense of ease fall over you as you rounded a narrow bookshelf and saw the alleged troublemaker in question. The expression on his face was both studious and serene as his emerald gaze wandered over the pages of the book he was reading.

To your amazement, he didn’t look much different from the boy you used to know. His raven hair was slightly longer than it had been in his youth. He wore it slicked back against the nape of his neck, drawing all the more attention to the sharpness of his cheekbones and the elegant curve of his jaw.

He was far more handsome and unmistakably dignified, but he was still Loki.

"I’m inclined to speak first, I take it? Or would you rather stand there gaping like a fish in amicable silence? It makes little difference to me," he chided, not even bothering to glance away from the page.

Blush reddened your cheeks as mortification overtook you, but you swallowed down your uncertainty and bowed respectfully in acknowledgement of his title. “I’m so sorry, your royal highness.”

The words left your lips with a passing amount of sincerity, but the subtle clenching in his jaw told you he’d picked up on the note of sarcasm.

Continuing before he had an opportunity to address it, you added, “I come bearing books. Lord Irah said you would be needing these to continue your studies.”

Loki barked out a laugh and clapped the book shut with one hand, shifting minutely to rest his back against the arch of the window. He sat on a cushioned seat, crafted to provide a comfortable nook in the wall before an impressively tall display of stained glass. The window offered a spectacular view of the gardens, but his eyes were focused solely on you now.

"Books," he repeated, as if in disbelief. He crossed his spindly legs and gestured to his surroundings with a dramatic flourish of his hand. "I appreciate the professor’s concern, but I believe I’m well-equipped."

A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. “I have reason to believe he’s marked specific lessons in here for you. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look, don’t you think? Your academic future could be at stake.”

The uncomfortable realization dawned on you that you might have been attempting to flirt. It wasn’t a conscious decision so much as an impulse, but it seemed to be happening regardless.

"Not to mention, it would reflect poorly on me if you didn’t accept them."

His eyes narrowed dangerously on you for a moment before he too gave in to a smirk. “We can’t have that, can we?”

In an effort to keep your blush from deepening, you stood up straight and held out his books. The delivery was almost complete, after which you would be able to take your leave and return to the lower levels of the palace unharmed and with most of your dignity in place.

What you didn’t expect was to be utterly transfixed as the youngest prince of Asgard stepped down from his perch and approached you with broad strides. He was remarkably slender without his armor and royal trappings to weigh him down, looking far more like an approachable young man than an heir to a prestigious throne.

He gazed down at you from his lofty height, taking the tomes from your hands and glancing over their titles with an expression of disinterest. Once he’d gathered all the information he apparently required, he cast his eyes on you once more, tilting his head in silent study.

"I thought it might have been you," he said at last, his stance relaxing a bit as he took you in for what you really were. Perhaps not an equal at this stage in your lives, but someone he deemed worthy of his civility at the very least. He spoke your name in his silkiest tone, and it took all the poise you could muster to keep your knees from buckling.

"I thought you’d forgotten," you smiled. "Furthermore, I didn’t know if it was my place to remind you."

He dismissed the notion with a roll of his eyes. “Well, you’re here now, so you might as well stay for a few minutes. Mother would loathe to hear I’d been dismissive to such an old acquaintance.”

"Am I allowed?" you asked outright, harboring the secret suspicion that the guards would be coming in at any time to peruse the aisles and yank you out.

"I’m a prince, aren’t I?" he retorted incredulously. "Aren’t I to have a say in who I spend my time with?"

As if your decision had been finalized, he turned around and headed back to his seat by the window, motioning for you to follow behind.

___________________________________________ ♡

There was something surreal about carrying on a conversation with Loki. It felt more like a challenge than anything else — a battle of wit and intellect in lieu of something more companionable.

He quizzed you on your knowledge of archaic spellwork and Asgardian history, as if to gauge how much you remembered from your academic years spent together as children. When his curiosity had been sated on that score, he asked about your family, snorting in amusement when you inquired about the well-being of his own.

"Isn’t my state of affairs obvious?" he sneered. "When you first arrived, I was disappointed to see you hadn’t brought something to eat. Or am I to dine on cheese and stale bread like the rest of the convicted prisoners while my brother gorges himself on holiday roast?"

At this, you smiled warmly. “This doesn’t seem so terrible, as far as prisons go. Many would think themselves lucky to be holed up in a library as grand as this one.”

"I’m sure many would," he responded snidely. "But I hardly see how that applies to me, given my usual comforts."

Releasing a sigh at his shameless display of self-importance, you rested your head against the arch of the sill and lightly swayed a leg over the side. “Won’t you be joining the festivities at all tonight? I thought princes were required to make an appearance during holiday celebrations?”

"Hardly a holiday," he drawled.

"Don’t you like Valentine’s Day?"

He glanced your way, a sleek brow arching as he processed his reply. “Not as much as you, I suspect. Do you have a suitor waiting downstairs to parade you about his arm? I would hate to stand in the way of your magical evening,” he said, purring in such a way that let you know he most definitely wouldn’t.

"No," you replied succinctly. "I don’t."

"Damn," he sighed, feigning disappointment. "Well, it’s probably for the best. You aren’t at all dressed properly."

If you hadn’t remembered who he was just in the nick of time, you might have reached out and given him a swat in the back of his puffed-up head.

"Are you not going to answer my question, then?" you asked.

He furrowed his brows, muddled in thought.

"About tonight’s celebration," you aided. "Won’t you be attending once you’ve finished catching up in your studies?"

"No," he stated simply, most likely dead-set on driving you mad by refusing to explain.

When he sensed your questioning stare wasn’t going to let up, he relented with a sigh. “If you  _must_  know, this ‘punishment’ —  _as outrageous as it is to still be susceptible to such a thing, given my age and responsibilities within this castle_  — is meant to last until the festivities are over and done with. Let’s just say temptation got the better of me, I toyed with my brother’s betrothed and my actions weren’t as easily forgiven as I had hoped to get away with.”

"Do you mean…  _you and Lady Sif were… ?”_ you floundered, too engrossed in your conversation to evaluate whether or not it was an appropriate question to be asking. What had he meant by ‘toy’? There was a lump in your throat, brought on by petty jealousy.

Loki appeared puzzled for a moment, and then thoroughly disgusted as he registered what you were getting at. He wrinkled his nose and shuddered as if his tongue had suddenly gone sour. The lump in your throat was quick to disappear.

"Absolutely not!" he spat. " _Why would you even — ?!_   _Ugh,_  what a horrid thought! I would sooner live out the rest of my miserable days as a eunuch than see my standards fall to such historic lows.”

"That’s awfully harsh," you defended. "Lady Sif is beautiful. Everybody thinks so."

He grinned devilishly at this. “Once word of my handiwork gets passed around like the common cold, no-one will think any such thing.” His smugness was so palpable you could slice it with a knife. It probably should have turned you off to him as a person, but you couldn’t feel anything but intrigue at that moment in time.

"What in the world did you do?!"

"I gave her The Allfather’s form," Loki stated, plain as day. He was attempting to remain calm and collected, but you could tell he’d been yearning for someone to laugh with on the matter. He was overflowing with pride. "From head to toe, she’s the man’s spitting image. Thor won’t be enjoying her womanly charms tonight, I’m afraid. The spell I crafted has placed Sif in quite an unyielding predicament, and unraveling it will keep The Allfather’s finest sorcerers occupied well into tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps longer."

You stared at the young man before you with wide, disbelieving eyes. Mischief incarnate, clad in gold and green cloth and ebony leather. “That’s…” you began, unable to find the word you were searching for, so instead settling on “… creative.” The laughter was starting to bubble in your chest. You could feel it threaten to rise as he carried on about his horrible prank.

"In all truth, I’m surprised Thor even noticed. I kept her ridiculous chest perfectly intact."

That was the final straw. There were few things he could have done to make the situation more bizarre, but he’d found a way and capitalized on it. The laughter left your body like ale flowing from a charmed barrel at one of Volstagg’s private parties, and not even Loki’s insistent hushing could make you stop.

 _"I know, yes, I’m hilarious when I put my brilliance to recreational use, but you really must shut up,"_  he hissed.

There was a break in your laughter, and you both listened as the library doors swung open and two pairs of heavy footsteps filled the silence. The guards were coming to retrieve you, no doubt, but you couldn’t seem to keep yourself from giggling. You placed your hands over your mouth to muffle the sounds as the footsteps grew louder, then softer, then louder again.

"Unbelievable," Loki murmured. He sounded vexed, but the look in his eyes held only sadistic mirth as he pried your hands away from your mouth and lunged forward, drowning out the sound of your laughter with his own mouth.

It wasn’t exactly a kiss, but it got the job done well enough. Not a breath dared to leave your body as the footsteps drew nearer still, and all the while with the prince’s lips pressed to yours as convincingly as if you were his actual lover.

The footsteps came closer, stilled for a moment, then continued in the opposite direction.

Loki waited until the coast was reasonably clear before he moved his mouth languorously against yours, teasing you with an indulgent kiss, flicking the tip of his tongue against yours as you began to moan before reeling away entirely, setting his books aside with such aloofness on his face you were staring to wonder if you’d imagined the whole thing.

"We haven’t much time," he whispered. "Do you still have the parchment you used to gain entry?"

His eyes searched your face for answers, but you were in a fog. It took you a few moments to settle back in to reality. “The what? Oh, yes. I do.”

"Delightful," he quipped, snatching the paper away from you the second you produced it from the leathers at your hip. His long fingers sparked to life with fiery green magic as his hand danced across the words. You watched on in fascination as the letters on the page bent to his commands, taking on a completely new message. Queen Frigga’s seal remained.

"Here," he said, folding the parchment and placing it back in your palm. The magic coursing through his fingers tickled and warmed your flesh. "Return in an hour having followed the instructions written on the parchment and I promise to reward you for your trouble. Now,  _go_. This may be your only chance.”

With your brain heavily clouded and Loki’s taste still fresh on your lips, you hopped down from the ledge and quietly padded your way to the end of the aisle.

"One more thing," he said softly from his seat, speaking your name once more to get your full attention. When you turned around to face him, he ran his tongue along the corner of his lips and narrowed his eyes at you in a playful manner. "Happy Valentine’s Day."

___________________________________________ ♡

Once you exited the library and were far enough down the hall to avoid getting stopped by the guards, you unfolded the parchment and scrolled over its contents with your eyes:

_Ah, good. If you’re reading this, then the spell is working as it should and you’ve managed to get away from prying eyes._

_I require a plate of mutton. Not as much as my brother typically eats, but enough to satisfy a male of my age and stature. Go for the medium-rare bits. The cooks tend to keep the meat roasting too long for my liking, but there is indeed redder meat to be found._

_Figs and cheeses are also nice, but not too much. Try to find the figs that are soaked in rum. I favor them, you see._

_Roasted spring vegetables are a given. I won’t insult your capacity for common sense by elaborating._

_Pass up ale and mead for a goblet of rich wine. Red or white, I care not, but make sure you bring more than you think will be necessary. Water would also be useful to have around, should either of us start feeling dehydrated._

_Do not worry about presenting this note to the guards upon your return. By the time you gather what I have asked for, this letter will have changed its message once again to suit their expectations._

_Don’t disappoint me,_

_L_


End file.
